


Magic

by deweydrops



Series: A Sorta Fairytale [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Assault, Awkward Flirting, Books, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Flogging, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jealous Loki (Marvel), Magic, Mugging, Pre-Thor (2011), Protective Loki (Marvel), Sparring, Trials, brutal asgardian justice, everyone knows they're totally in love, except for loki and sigyn, teacups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deweydrops/pseuds/deweydrops
Summary: Mostly a series of vignettes detailing Loki and Sigyn's blossoming relationship after she arrives at the palace as his apprentice. Follows the events of Hello.





	1. Chapter 1

By dawn, they'd entered the city, the palace looming large and imposing as they approached the massive doors. Once again the sheer scale daunted her. Just entering the courtyard as she had once before felt like stepping into another world. Now she would pass through the golden doors.

Loki walked along a few paces ahead of her, slowed slightly by the bag of books he'd offered to carry on the journey. Sigyn dragged along the small trunk of belongings she'd gathered the previous night before saying her goodbyes.

Part of her protested the impulsiveness of her decision, a voice that grew more prominent now that she was far from her village of Bravellir. Two days ago she'd met Prince Loki, and now she'd left home to become his apprentice. He was a powerful sorcerer, to be sure, and no doubt she'd be able to excel in her training in ways she'd never been able to back at the village. But still, such a sudden change of course in her journey left her breathless, almost doubtful.

Then there was the small matter of the Allfather. The last time she'd come here she'd allowed her tongue to get the better of her and scolded the king and his guards for failing to save her sister. She'd been spared any harsh consequences, but the king would not be pleased to see her again.

Loki seemed confident that his father would allow Sigyn to enter the palace, even if he was not fond of her. “Just let me do the talking and look contrite,” he'd said when she'd brought it up.

Now they approached the guards posted at the main doors. One nod from Loki and the guards parted, making way for Sigyn and the prince to pass down the grand entrance and into the throne room.

“Loki!” The queen called, rushing up to the prince. “Where have you been?” She embraced him, only taking notice of Sigyn once they'd parted.

“My apologies for worrying you, mother.” Loki replied. “I can explain.”

“Please do,” the Allfather ordered. Sigyn glanced up to see the king seated on the throne. “Why is the farmer's daughter here?” Sigyn kept her eyes to the floor, doing her best to look ashamed as Loki instructed.

“Making amends,” Loki announced. “After departing the courtyard it seems Sigyn, blinded by her grief, had a mind to rescue her sister herself. I discovered her taking a skiff to Myrkvidr before she too was caught by the Storm Giant.”

Sigyn cast a side-long glance at Loki, biting her tongue. The king and queen looked over at her before Loki went on.

“I suppose I took pity on the poor girl and followed her to the Storm Giant's abode, where I rescued her and her sister from imprisonment.”

 _That is not what happened!_ Sigyn thought, fighting the urge to protest.

Now the Allfather looked to Sigyn. “Is this true, girl?”

 _Not quite._ Sigyn thought, but rather than correct the prince's version of events, and essentially accuse a royal of lying with no one to support her version of events, she simply nodded. “Yes, Allfather.”

“And as you can see, father, she is deeply ashamed of her foolish actions. She has accepted that she is well and truly in my debt, and agreed to be my apprentice in the ways of magic as recompense for saving her and her sister.”

Once again the Allfather focused his attention on her. “And is this true? You've agreed to become his apprentice of your own accord to repay your debt to my son?”

Sigyn felt Loki's eyes on her as the king and queen awaited her response. She cast her eyes to the floor and hunched over slightly, hoping to look as contrite as possible. “Yes, your majesty. I am...so very ashamed.”

The Allfather looked unmoved. “Very well. See to it that the servants prepare her a room in the servants' quarters.”

Two servants appeared, relieving Sigyn of her belongings as she and Loki set off down the hall. As they passed, she caught sight of Theoric's arrogant grin, satisfied that the country maiden who'd challenged him had lost.

“Why did you do that?” Sigyn hissed once they were out of earshot. “Taking credit for saving me and Idunn?”

“I did, did I not?”

“Yes but...I saved _you_ too and I certainly did not get kidnapped. Why lie about what happened?”

“Consider it our first lesson,” Loki explained. He stopped walking and turned to her. “Partners in the ways of magic work best when trust is established and when each sorcerer works to make the other stronger. It's about mutual support.”

“And how did making me out to be a witless damsel in front of the king while setting yourself up as the hero show mutual support?”

“I made you look like a repentant subject who learned a valuable lesson from her past foolishness. Now my father has seen you demonstrate behavior much more befitting of your station. Seeing you humbled made him amenable to your presence and so he permitted your training. I suggest you bear that in mind.”

“And that awful Theoric was there, enjoying the comeuppance for the silly peasant with no sense. What happened to seeing the look on his face when I broke the enchantment?”

“You'll see it, in time. For now, let's begin.” Loki resumed his long strides, with Sigyn quickly shuffling to match his pace. As they passed down the grand hallways, guards, servants, and nobles alike deferred to the prince, pausing and moving to the side to make way for him as she followed along. For his part, Loki moved as though he fully expected the right-of-way.

 _Norns am I going to get lost in these halls_ , Sigyn thought. She tried to make note of where they'd passed, but everything was so grand and gold that it all began to look alike after awhile.

As last they came to yet another set of gold doors. Loki produced a key, sliding the locks open. The doors opened slowly, revealing the massive shelves within. Sigyn gasped at the seemingly endless rows of books, the largest collection she'd ever seen.

“This way.” Loki motioned for her to enter as he stood in the doorway, a playful grin on his lips. “This is the great library.”

“There must be every book in the nine realms in here,” Sigyn breathed, taking a few small steps inside.

“Not quite,” Loki chuckled as he moved in behind her. “But it is the largest collection of texts in the nine realms.” He lead her past the long, high shelves and into a section in the back, with a table stacked high with heavy volumes.

“Grimoires,” Sigyn whispered. They were the only two in the great library, but she felt compelled to keep her voice low.

“A mere handful of guides compared to the collective knowledge of the master sorcerers, but they will serve us well,” Loki said, pulling a volume out of the stacks.

Sigyn's eyes wandered over the shelves, trying to take a peek at some of the texts. “My prince...is this library only for scholars? Or must I obtain permission if I wish to...explore it a little?”

“The great library is mostly used by scholars and the occasional bored noble. I am the only one with the key to its doors and few are eager to seek me out to obtain access,” Loki explained. He gave her a look she couldn't quite place...was it adoration? It couldn't be, they'd only known each other a few days. “But for you, my apprentice, you may enter any time you wish.”

*

She'd taken to the training surprisingly well, Loki mused as he made his way towards his rooms, where she was waiting. Some last minute royal duties had kept him busy most of the morning, so he'd tasked her with organizing the books in his private study until his return. In truth, he'd enchanted the shelves so that each time a book was lifted from one end, another would fly off the shelf at the other. He'd wanted to test how long it would take her to discover the enchantment, and whether she could break it, or if it would prevail over her. He was eager to see the state the study, and of his apprentice.

His rooms were silent when he'd reached them.

“Sigyn?” He called, striding into the study.

He found her leaning against the table, poring over one of his books. The rest of the study was as organized as when he'd left it; the books straightened and ordered. She glanced up, startled at his presence, and snapped the book shut.

“My dear, when I said 'organize my books' I didn't mean 'Pick up one book and stop,'” Loki chided, though the smile playing at the corner of his mouth undercut any reprimand.

“Oh, Prince Loki,” Sigyn replied, straightening. “I apologize. I didn't expect you back so soon.”

“You broke my enchantment, I see. I'd half expected to see you weeping amid a pile of fallen books.”

“I expected the mischievous prince would keep me on my toes. Took me a few tries, but I found the scroll you'd hidden in the corner.”

Loki joined her at the table, curious which book she'd been reading. It was a collection of fables from across the nine realms.

“It was one of my favorites growing up,” Sigyn said. “I'm amazed to see a first printing.”

Loki ran his hand over the cover, with its embossed depiction of Yggdrasil and golden lettering. It had been a favorite of his, too, before he'd been able to see the other realms.

“I used to dream about seeing Midgard or Vanaheim one day,” Sigyn went on. “But where I'm from, just seeing a neighbor is considered an adventure.”

“Vanaheim is quite lovely,” Loki replied. “Midgard has its charms, mostly in that mortals worship you as a God as soon as you land.”

“Does it hurt? Traveling through the Bifrost?”

“Why would it hurt?”

“I hear you are shot through space at high speeds. It can't exactly be comfortable.”

“One gets used to it after a few travels.”

“How many travels have you made?”

“I've lost count over the centuries.”

“Oh. Which realm is your favorite place to visit?”

Her questions should have irked him, but there was a sense of wonder in her eyes that revealed her curiosity and a desire for adventure.

“Visiting isn't exactly the best way to describe my experiences in the other realms. Battling to keep the peace is more apt.”

“Which realm is your favorite place to battle to keep the peace?”

Despite himself, Loki laughed. “Brother and I once led a battle in Nornheim to stop the Fire Giants from invading. The Norns predicted we'd have a solid victory. I suppose a battle you're predestined to win is more enjoyable than most.”

She gazed at him with a reverence that most others reserved for his brother and father. Suddenly he was aware of how close the two of them were standing. She'd scented her hair with lavender, and the soothing aroma reached his nostrils. He leaned in closer in spite of himself, keeping his gaze focused on the book. It was opened to an illustration of a Frost Giant, dark blue and fearsome as it towered over innocent mortals.

“Have you ever seen one?” Sigyn asked. “A Frost Giant?”

“No,” said Loki. “The truce with King Laufey is too precarious risk such a meeting. Much of our knowledge of Jotunheim has fallen into myth.”

Sigyn rested her chin on her hand. “How much have we got wrong then, I wonder?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, back in Bravellir parents often told their children that if we did not finish our chores by sundown the Frost Giants would come and snatch us away in the night, and we'd be trapped forever in Jotunheim. Delaying our chores until as close to sundown as possible was great sport among the children, hoping and also dreading the possibility of seeing a real Frost Giant.” Sigyn sighed, running her fingers over the illustration. “Of course, Papa always told us the real truth about what happened when we didn't finish our chores in time.”

“Which was?”

“We'd simply have twice as much to do the next day.” Sigyn shrugged. “After all, I'm sure the Frost Giants have far greater concerns than whether or not a few errant Asgardian children have finished a task or not.”

“So it would seem,” Loki replied, closing the book. Discussions about the Jotunheim always left him ill-at-ease, knowing one day the uneasy truce would come to an end. And his brother's vow to hunt them down and slay them all echoed in his mind. At first he'd hoped those were merely the words of an immature boy, but time and his father's lessons had done nothing to curb Thor's lust for battle.

He looked over at Sigyn, lost in wistful thoughts of her village, and felt no desire to burden her with his fears for Asgard at the moment. Instead, he stood. “Well, let's hope we have no need to find out what concerns the Frost Giants. Come, let's move on to our next lesson.”

*

Fandral blocked another blow from Hogun, narrowly defeating him in the sparring yards. Several ladies swooned and applauded, and he turned, bowing at them with a flourish of his sword. A few yards away, Volstagg sparred with two young lads, sons of Einherjar who'd hoped to follow in their fathers' footsteps one day. Each time one of the lads landed a blow, Volstagg bellowed with a cry of pain far greater than he actually felt. The lads, encouraged by their success, wielded their practice swords with far more confidence.

“Something a bit odd about this sparring session, is there not?” Fandral asked as Sif and Thor entered the yard.

“What do you mean?” Sif picked up her spear and began stretching.

“Well, so far no one's weapons have mysteriously turned into snakes. Every person I strike at is actually there and not an illusion. Nor have I found myself suddenly attacked by an opponent who was not there before.”

“You mean it's actually going smoothly?” Sif asked, taking Hogun's place as Fandral's opponent.

“But where is my brother?” Thor demanded, striding into the yard. His presence sent several warriors to the sidelines, unwilling to take on the crown prince as an opponent. “He ought to be out here learning battle instead of tricks.”

“There,” said Hogun, indicating an alcove by the gardens, well away from the sparring yards.

Fandral walked over to the edge of the yard, followed by Volstagg and Sif, to take a closer look where Hogun pointed.

Beneath the alcove, Loki stood with his new charge, the country maiden he'd rescued from the Storm Giant. They were huddled close together, with Loki's hand on top of hers, positioning her fingers in what looked to be the proper movements for some spell. He ran a finger up and down the length of her forearm, seemingly demonstrating a flow of magic. They were too far away for Fandral to hear anything aside from their laughter.

“Training his apprentice, I see,” Sif remarked.

“Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?” Fandral replied, his eyes still on Loki and the maiden. Green and yellow light shimmered from their hands before shifting into an eagle that flew a few feet in the air before dissolving. The maiden turned, looking up at Loki with adoring eyes. Loki never took his hand from hers.

“Huh, there's hope for everyone I suppose,” Volstagg remarked.

Sif rolled her eyes. “Please, he's just training her.”

“Then it seems I went about _my_ training the wrong way, as I do not recall so much time spent gazing into someone's eyes under a picturesque alcove.”

“Perhaps we should be glad he's found someone willing to overlook his, well, everything...” Volstagg turned his attention to the palace. “Is it time for the afternoon meal? I'm famished.”

“Not for another two hours,” Hogun replied.

“Two hours too many for me.” Volstagg departed the sparring yards, making his way toward the palace kitchens.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, startling Loki and the maiden. They turned in the direction of the yards while Fandral, Sif, and Hogun made unconvincing attempts to pretend to spar with each other. “You are missing our sparring matches! I am in need of an opponent. Join us!”

Loki turned to the maiden, leaning in far closer than necessary to whisper in her ear. They departed the alcove, Loki setting off to the sparring yard, the maiden walking through the garden.

“My apologies, brother,” Loki said moments later as he joined them, daggers in hand. “My apprentice required more of my time than I anticipated.”

“Oh yes,” Fandral chuckled. “Hours spent with a beautiful woman hanging on your every word. Such a terrible burden.”

Loki drew in a breath at Fandral's quip. “If you're implying that I have... _untoward_ relations with my apprentice, Fandral, I can assure my only interest lies in assisting her in magic.”

“Yes of course,” Fandral replied as Loki took a position as his opponent, drawing his daggers against Fandral's sword. “It was merely a jest. I suspect she has no shortage of gentlemen hoping to court her. Perhaps such a suitor is chatting with her now.”

“Possibly,” Loki replied, but there was an edge to his tone indicating that the comment may have struck a nerve. “Or she may be reading or gathering herbs or writing to her sister. In truth I am not familiar with her interests or personal life.” His daggers struck against Fandral's sword, nearly catching the warrior off guard.

“I see.” Fandral parried his sword away from the daggers, backing himself out of their reach before striking back. “Perhaps I ought to take an interest, then, as you haven't.”

“As you wish,” Loki shrugged, though he wielded his daggers with an unusual fierceness. “I assure you my affections are strictly chaste.”

 

The next evening, Fandral found the maiden in the section of the garden where the palace cooks kept their herbs. She was collecting what looked to be fresh lavender. He recalled Loki's words at the sparring session and strode over to her, hoping to test his theory.

“Lovely evening, isn't it, milady?”

The maiden glanced up from her work, her eyes wide at the sight of him standing before her. “Oh! Yes, indeed, it is.” She cleared her throat and watched him as though she were puzzled by his attentions.

“Oh, but I am remiss,” Fandral bowed, offering her his hand. “Fandral. The Dashing.”

Sigyn glanced at his outstretched hand, then back to him, before tentatively placing her hand on his. “Oh, yes. You're one of Thor's friends.”

“One of the Warriors Three, to be exact. Slayer of thousands of foes, defender of Asgard, trusted comrade of Prince Thor and hero of the nine realms.” He gazed deep into her eyes as his lips brushed against the top of her hand, keeping them in place just a tad longer than was necessary.

Sigyn nodded, smiling politely as Fandral listed his accolades. “Yes, well... good for you?” She drew her hand back.

A long moment of silence passed between them. Now Fandral was equally puzzled. By this point most maidens would have succumbed to his advances. Sigyn turned back to the lavender, plucking more of the herb from the ground.

She looked up again when she realized he was still staring at her. “May I help you?” she asked.

“Forgive me, dear girl. I am merely using the garden for its intended purpose.”

“Which is?”

Fandral leaned in once more. “Admiring nature's beauty.”

Now Sigyn blushed, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

As if on cue, Loki emerged from the garden's entrance.

“Sigyn! There you are,” Loki called, marching over to the two of them. “We are quite late for tonight's training.”

“But we are not meeting for another hour, my prince,” Sigyn protested.

“Plans change,” Loki replied, positioning himself between her and Fandral. “It seems my royal duties have wrapped sooner than I expected and we've much to go over so let's make haste.” He offered Sigyn his hand. She took it and he lifted her up, pulling her close as she stood.

Loki turned to Fandral. “Fandral, I'm afraid I must collect my apprentice. Terribly sorry.” He lead Sigyn out of the garden.

“No apologies needed, my prince,” Fandral called, unable to hide his satisfaction at seeing his suspicions confirmed. "No apologies at all."

*

“What about Lady Fulla?”

Loki glanced up from the dagger he'd been polishing as he sat across from Sigyn in his study. His brow furrowed. “What _about_ Lady Fulla?”

Sigyn bit her lip, twirling the quill she'd been using to compose a letter to her sister. She wasn't quite sure why she'd even brought up the name of the queen's primary handmaiden.

With deep chestnut hair, hazel eyes, and a statuesque figure, Lady Fulla was considered a great beauty of the court. Her family enjoyed one of the highest positions in Asgardian society, and she herself had no shortage of practiced charms. She was sure to top the list of any nobleman hoping to make a strategic match. Her grand ambitions had not stopped any number of suitors from trying their luck at catching her eye.

“I hear you've been asked to serve as her escort as part of the envoy to Niflheim,” Sigyn added, as though that explained everything.

“And you're asking about this because?”

“I'm just wondering about her. And you.” Sigyn tried her best to sound nonchalant. She recalled the loud boasting from Lady Fulla as she regaled her friends with the news that she'd be going to Niflheim with the prince by her side. By Sigyn's observations, it seemed Lady Fulla vastly preferred Thor, but any prince was better than no prince at all, so long as she had a shot at the title of queen.

“Lady Fulla,” Loki began, setting aside his daggers. “Is the daughter of Herryk, my father's closest advisor. We try our best to be gracious and accommodating to the family of Herryk as a token of our appreciation for his many years of loyalty and will continue to do so even though Lady Fulla seems far more interested in being _seen_ with the queen than in _serving_ the queen. Or so it has been explained to me.”

“But are you...involved?” Sigyn asked, unsure she wanted to know the answer. “With her?”

“To the extent that I must be. I imagine Lady Fulla shares similar sentiments.”

“Lady Fulla seems to be think otherwise.”

Loki cocked his head, a playful smile on his lips. “Oh my, is this jealousy?”

“Not at all!” Sigyn felt her cheeks color. “I just...heard some things. This palace gossip is so hard to keep up with-”

Loki clutched his hand over his heart in mock incredulity. “By the Norns, my dear sweet Sigyn is positively green with envy.”

“I am not!” Sigyn protested, nearly spilling the inkwell she'd been using.

Loki crossed the table, leaning against the edge as he stood in front of her with a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Your flustered expression seems to indicate otherwise.”

“Being flustered doesn't mean I'm jealous.”

“Oh, do not think for a moment you can fool me, my sweet,” Loki leaned in closer, cupping her chin with his fingertips. “I can read you easily. You're like my favorite book.”

Now Sigyn met his eyes. “Your favorite book?”

“Indeed. Because I know the story, the twists and turns, what will happen before I turn the page. And yet I still manage to uncover something new between lines. And so I do not tire of it, no matter how many times I behold what's before me.”

A soft giggle escaped Sigyn's lips, her concerns about Loki and Lady Fulla vanishing as he looked at her.

“Your majesty?” a guard's voice shattered the moment, forcing Sigyn back to reality. “The Allfather requests your presence.”

Loki dropped his head as the guard approached, releasing Sigyn from his touch. “Very well.” Loki nodded at the guard and straightened.

“I must go,” Loki said, resting a hand on Sigyn's shoulder. “I suspect Lady Fulla is likely to find little more than mist on the journey to Niflheim.” He turned and followed the guard out of the study, leaving Sigyn with much more to include in her letter than one page would allow.

 

Later, Loki found Sigyn in the great library, stretched out on one of the long chairs near the back.

“Terribly sorry,” Loki said as he took a seat near her. “I did not expect to be away for so long.”

Sigyn looked up, an impish smile on her face. “No need for remorse, my prince. I have been so absorbed by my reading it seems no time at all has passed.” Loki peered at her latest selection, this one a fiction detailing the disappearance of a beloved merchant's daughter.

“I've always been fond of a good mystery,” Sigyn gently closed the book, leaning forward to face Loki. There was a coquettish glint in her eyes Loki had not seen before.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because,” Sigyn replied. “I may not know what's going to happen, the motives are not always clear, and I cannot always see where the plot is going. But I love collecting the clues, working out the puzzle to see if I've gotten it right. And even when I'm wrong, well, the unexpected twist is always the best part, is it not?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigyn and Loki get closer...but palace life throws a few complications their way.

“Do I bore you?”

Loki watched as Sigyn stifled yet another yawn and shook her head. “Not at all, my prince,” she replied. “It's just that I've had such little sleep lately.” She had a private room in the servants' quarters, and Loki suspected the thin walls and constant activity did not make for a quiet place to rest. Since the late afternoon she'd seemed drowsy. Even her magic was sluggish.

“I do apologize,” she added sheepishly, as yet another orb dissolved soon after she'd released it from her fingertips.

Loki stood from the table in his private study. She was capable of much more than this, and this apparent step backwards tried his patience. Her frustration, too, manifested itself in the pale flickers of light fizzling at her fingertips.

“Should I go?” She asked, looking up at him from her seat at the table.

Loki sighed. It wasn't her fault, but they weren't getting anywhere. “I suppose we should take a break. I have some business with my father to see to, anyway.” As he made his exit, he stopped before one of the shelves, pulling out a book on the magical properties of various metals. “Here, read through this until I get back.” He placed the heavy volume on the table in front of her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

The business with his father, as it happened, quickly turned into business with his brother, his mother, and dealing with various nobles as he was sidetracked again and again throughout the palace. It was after dark by the time he'd returned to his rooms.

He found her where he'd left her, at the table, the book open, with only a few pages read. Her head was down, her hair covering her face. He crept closer, lifting her hair out of the way to see her face. As he'd hoped, she was sound asleep, using the book as what had to be an uncomfortable pillow.

“Oh dear, that wasn't exactly a page turner, was it, love?” he whispered, gently lifting her up from the chair. “Terribly sorry.”

He carried her out of the study and into the small parlor just outside. He laid her down on the couch, draping a nearby sheet over her shoulders. He smoothed her hair from her face, listening to the sound of her breathing for a moment before retiring to his own bedchamber.

 

The next morning, Loki woke to the sound of knocking from the main doors of his rooms. He rose, striding into the antechamber before the main door. Sigyn, too, had stirred at the noise, looking at Loki from her spot on the couch. Loki silently put a finger to his lips, casting an illusion to conceal her before opening the door.

The servants had delivered the morning meal. Loki noted the offerings included the honeyed pears he knew she liked. Once the servants departed, he cast off the illusion. Sigyn let out her breath as she rose to a sitting position.

“Sleep well?” Loki asked, handing her the plate of pears.

“It's an improvement over the servant's quarters,” Sigyn replied, still groggy with sleep, though at least her eyes seemed brighter. She accepted the plate, then paused, looking up at him with a slight smile and her head tilted in amusement.

“What?”

“Your hair. It's curly.”

Loki brought a hand up to his head. He hadn't had a chance to straighten his hair yet, and realized she'd rarely seen it in its natural state.

Sigyn giggled. “Leave it like that. It's cute.”

“A prince of Asgard must appear dignified and stately. Not...cute.” He could feel his cheeks color and hoped she hadn't noticed.

They ate in silence for awhile. Despite his preference for solitude, Loki found he enjoyed her presence. The early start allowed for more time with her, and he yearned to get closer to her, to feel the heat of her magic surging with his.

“We'll begin in the garden today,” Loki said once they'd finished.

Sigyn nodded. She rose from the couch, when a look of panic crossed her face. She clapped her hand to her mouth, suppressing a gasp.

“What troubles you, dear Sigyn?”

She turned to him. “I...I'm wearing the same garments as the day before.”

“I see.”

She blinked, expecting him to pick up on her meaning. He had, but was enjoying the game.

“Well, if I go out there, and I'm in the same garments as yesterday,” she went on slowly. “The many other people in the palace will see me and know that did not return to my chamber last night.”

“But you did not. You were here, correct?”

Now Sigyn's cheeks flushed. “Yes, but we didn't...but _they'll_ see me and think you and I...” she gestured at the space between them. “You know...”

“I'm afraid I do not.” Loki gave his best innocent smile.

She grunted in exasperation. “They'll think we.. _.did_ something.”

“Oh dear. What do you suppose they'll think we did?” Loki continued feigning ignorance. This was delightful. “Write letters? Knit? Late night sparring session?”

The last suggestion caused a brief, brilliant surge of light from her fingertips. She cleared her throat, realizing Loki would continue until she'd said it. “My prince they'll think we...” her voice dropped to a whisper. “ _Canoodled._ ”

“My dear, surely you've noticed in your time here that city attitudes towards... _canoodling_ are considerably more relaxed than out in the villages.” Indeed, it seemed she was unaware that, according to the court's more imaginative gossips, they had been _canoodling_ since the day she'd arrived at the palace.

“Perhaps,” Sigyn replied, “But maybe I prefer to be a bit more...discreet in my private affairs.”

“Very well.” Loki waved his hand before her, green light enveloping her for an instant before vanishing, leaving her clad in a green tunic with brown leather breeches, her hair woven into a long plait draped over her shoulder. “Better?”

Sigyn looked down at the new outfit. “Much.”

“To the gardens, then. I'll join you shortly.”

Sigyn made her way to the doors. She open them slightly but paused. She turned back to Loki, furtively nodding her head at the hallway outside. He could hear voices of the servants handling trays.

Loki rolled his eyes, but cast another illusion to conceal her from view. “You may go.”

*

“ _If I had a hundred wishes_  
_And only one of them could come true_  
_I would wish that over this distance_  
_I could be right there now with you”_

Sigyn quietly sang the old melody, her hands occupied with etching runes into a deep clay bowl she'd hoped to use to practice scrying. At first she paused as footsteps passed along the corridor outside her chambers, worried others might hear. But as she grew more absorbed into her task, the outside palace faded to the back of her mind.

“ _In the night I see you still_  
_Darken hair and tender smile_  
_Leaning out of the window sill..._ ”

“...Clutching roses all the while.”

Sigyn yelped at the sound of Loki's voice completing the verse. The bowl flew from her hands, just missing the floor as Loki caught it.

“My prince,” Sigyn gasped, breathless. “You startled me.”

“So it seems,” Loki chuckled, placing the bowl back onto the table. “Oh, I did knock, yet you were so enthralled by your task I suspect you did not hear. Such a beautiful tune, by the way.”

Sigyn turned a deep shade of red under the prince's gaze. For someone to catch her singing was bad enough. For the prince to hear her singing that particular song felt almost shameful. She wasn't even sure why she'd started singing it.

She steadied herself against the table. “To what do I owe the pleasure, my prince?”

But Loki's attention was not on her, instead surveying the meager living chambers. Her dressing table, with its small mirror, cluttered with hair cleanser and conditioning oils, combs, and a pile of ribbons. The bed with rumpled sheets, her plush unicorn Dagny that she'd had since childhood beside the pillow. The half-finished cup of tea from earlier in the day, long since gone cold.

His eyes now fixed on the dozens of assorted teacups stacked near the cabinet where she kept her dishes. Sigyn quickly moved to the bed, smoothing the sheets and covering Dagny behind the pillow.

“It's an impressive collection,” Loki remarked at the teacups. All were obviously from different sets. No two were alike. “Though I am concerned you may run out.”

“It's sort of a hobby,” Sigyn replied. “I like to collect one each time I go somewhere new. Although until recently I was mostly getting them from neighboring village markets. Runa and my Papa would often bring me ones from their travels if I couldn't go with them.”

Loki seemed to ponder her words. Now he idly made his way over to the dressing table, his fingers tracing along the knotted wood.

“You are departing for Niflheim tomorrow, are you not?” Sigyn asked, as the prince had not yet given a reason for his visit.

“I am. Two weeks spent entertaining Lady Fulla in the realm of mist, surrounded by my father's advisors, on my best behavior.”

A pang of jealousy bit her heart. Lady Fulla had become unbearably smug over the past few days. It was clear her family had grand ambitions to see one of their own with a claim to the throne, even if she had to settle for the second prince. That anyone would see Loki as little more than a means to an end angered her. He deserved someone in his circle who valued everything he was.

“Well, I suppose I should bid you farewell,” Sigyn said. “I will miss our training sessions.”

“I'm sure you'll find a way to keep yourself occupied.” Loki turned his attention back to her bowl. “With scrying? You are aware you can commission such a bowl from any number of artisans and save yourself the trouble, yes?”

“I prefer to design my own,” Sigyn shrugged, tracing her fingers over the bowl's half-finished runes. “Magical tools of one's own making are far more effective as they are already imbued with one's energy.”

“If one is powerful enough, the origin of the tool is of no concern,” Loki replied. “But I admire your work.”

“Is there anything I should study while you're away, my prince?” Sigyn asked.

“Your time is yours to do as you wish, my dear.” Loki caressed her cheek with his fingers, looking at her as though memorizing her every detail. “Besides, I shall look forward to picking up exactly where we've left off.” With that, he turned and left Sigyn's chambers, never once explaining why he'd come by.

 

A week later, Sigyn rummaged over her dressing table, searching in vain for the yellow hair ribbon she knew she'd placed there not long ago. A knock at her door paused her search.

“Come in.”

A palace courier entered, carrying a small parcel. “For Sigyn Iwaldidottir,” he said, handing her the parcel and taking his leave with a quick bow before Sigyn could thank him.

She looked over the parcel as she brought it over to her table. Rarely did she receive any type of mail that was not a letter from Idunn. She tugged off the cord that kept it closed, revealing a small ash box underneath the protective parchment.

Inside the box was a teacup, a rose design etched on its porcelain exterior, the inside a deep shade of pink, with a gold rim. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted it out of the box's velvet interior. It was the most exquisite teacup she'd ever seen. Beneath the teacup, she found a note written with the deep green stationary and embossed snake design she'd recognize anywhere:

_Sweet Sigyn,_

_For your collection._

_-Loki_

*

Loki shifted in the gilded silver seat near the head of the long table. He listened patiently while yet another Niflheim elder spoke of the realm's long relationship with Asgard. Outside, mist surrounded the palace, as it had day and night, since the Asgardian envoy had arrived ten days ago. Beside him, Lady Fulla laughed elegantly at the appropriate moments, otherwise acting every bit the proper Asgardian lady as Herryk looked on in approval.

For his part, Loki acted the part of the diplomatic Asgardian prince, doing his best to preserve the Niflheim elders' high esteem of his kingdom all the while attentively escorting Lady Fulla as the envoy partook of the finest sights and festivities Niflheim had to offer.

And in a land of fog and mist, it wasn't much.

Now Lady Fulla rested a hand over the top of Loki's forearm. In full view of their hosts, just long enough to gather some notice, but brief enough so as not to provoke murmurs of untoward behavior. She cast a charming smile at the prince, though her eyes remained distant and calculating.

Loki played along under the watchful eye of Herryk, though he knew they'd both originally had their sights set on Thor to court Lady Fulla and eventually ask for her hand. Alas, Thor showed little interest in her, and Sif's glares shut down any attempts for the daughter of Herryk to pursue him beyond a mere acquaintanceship. Short of physically morphing into Mjollnir, there was little Lady Fulla could have done to arouse Thor's attention.

Undeterred by this apparent setback, it seemed Lady Fulla and her family focused their attentions on Asgard's younger prince instead. So long as one of their own had a legitimate tie to the throne, it mattered not who they used to get it, or how.

Loki folded his hands under the table, his fingers idly tracing the yellow ribbon he'd tied around his wrist, hidden beneath his tunic and metal bracers. He wondered what Sigyn was doing at this moment, if she'd received the parcel he'd sent her, if she'd had any luck with her scrying, if she would enjoy the mission to Nilfheim had he been escorting her. In a few days he'd see her again, yet it seemed he'd already spent an eternity in the unbearably uncomfortable chair discussing trade.

His thoughts were disrupted by the Nilfheim elders rising from their chairs as the Asgardians did likewise. “And now, my esteemed allies, I believe it is time for us to dine,” their leader spoke as yet another trade meeting came to a close.

Later, after the modest feast, Lady Fulla requested a return to her guest rooms in the palace. Loki escorted her once more, noting how wrapped her hand over his forearm, never losing her footing though she focused solely on ensuring all in attendance saw her with him. How effortlessly she put on a show of interest in what he said.

Her facade faded somewhat once they'd reached the guest rooms and only a few servants worked nearby to see them. They reached her rooms, and Lady Fulla released her grasp.

“Is this goodnight, my prince?” She asked, tilting her head down while looking up in just the right way as to convey a desire for him.

“So it would seem, Lady Fulla” Loki replied evenly. “I shall see you in morning.”

“Oh, but it's such a long while until then.”

“Only a few hours, milady.”

“I suppose,” Lady Fulla went on, sliding her fingers along the bracer on Loki's forearm. “Perhaps then I shall see you in my dreams-” her rehearsed speech stopped short as she moved to slide her fingers beneath the sleeve of Loki's tunic, exposing part of the yellow ribbon.

Lady Fulla stared as Loki tucked the ribbon back under his sleeve, watching her face. She gave no visible sign of aggravation, aside from clenching her jaw as her eyes grew colder.

“Good night my prince.” Lady Fulla said at last, her smile as elegant and genial as ever. She gave a quick curtsey before retiring to her rooms, leaving the prince satisfied that his apprentice had managed to assist him even when she was worlds away.

*

A few weeks after his return from Niflheim, Frigga watched her youngest son pace back and forth along the balcony, pausing to survey the streets below. Loki was rarely known to display such open agitation, yet the queen suspected she knew the cause of his distress. Earlier that morning, he'd sent his apprentice down to the busy markets to procure a particular kind of moonstone, one that was quite rare and only brought to Asgard by the merchants once every few months. The hour was drawing close to the late afternoon, and she hadn't returned yet.

“Perhaps she's gotten lost,” Frigga offered. “Shall I send some guards to find her?”

Loki stopped his pacing, looking over the balcony again. “The palace is the tallest building in Asgard. I highly doubt she could lose sight of it.”

“You mustn't worry so,” Frigga continued. “The markets are among the safest areas in the city. I'm sure your Sigyn is fine.”

Loki looked at her. “My only worry is whether or not I should find another way to fill my precious free time in the event she's run off.”

Frigga stepped closer, placing a hand against Loki's shoulder. “You mustn't think that way, Loki. Your Sigyn would not still be training if she thought ill of you.”

“ _My Sigyn_ is a commoner with whom I have a specific arrangement. She runs my errands, I train her in sorcery, and so it goes as long as both parties are satisfied.” Loki was pacing again. “As of now, one party is deeply unsatisfied.”

Frigga smiled. Despite all his talk, Loki could not keep his true feelings secret from her. She'd seen the looks they exchanged. The rare genuine smiles she elicited from him. How his pace quickened on his way to see her. The way she'd managed to coax out the tender parts of Loki so often kept hidden. She'd seen how Sigyn's powers had grown over the course of their time together, and the pride Loki took in helping her discover her abilities.

“Then I suppose the arrangement is over,” Frigga said. “And you've no need to linger at the balcony, my son."

At that moment, something in the streets below caught Loki's attention. A stricken look crossed his face as he turned and raced towards the palace entrance. Concerned, Frigga followed, wondering what had so disturbed her son.

She found a distraught Loki standing before two guards in the palace entrance, one carrying a limp female figure in his arms.

“She's hurt,” the guard was saying now.

As Frigga moved closer she recognized the figure of Loki's apprentice, her eyes glossed over, clothes torn and bloodied, breaths soft and shallow, her ankle swollen and twisted at an unnatural angle. Her heart sank to see the girl in such a state.

“I can see that,” Loki snarled. “What happened?”

“We cannot say for sure, my liege. We found her limping her way back to the palace. She collapsed before we got to her.”

By now Frigga had reached the guards. “Bring her to the healing room,” she commanded before Loki could unleash more of his misplaced anger on the guards. She placed a gentle hand on the girl's side, causing her to cry out in pain.

“Careful, my queen,” the guard said. “It seems she's incurred a severe blow to her ribcage.”

Frigga held Loki back by the shoulder as the guards carried his apprentice away. “Let the healers do their work. You can visit her later.”

“I must know who did this,” Loki murmured darkly as he scratched at his fingers. “Thieves? Bandits? I've told father we needed more guards by markets...she's too damn trusting.”

“Loki, please,” Frigga soothed. “We will get the story from her later. You must not upset yourself.” In truth, the queen was equally disturbed. The markets were quite safe, though they had no shortage of petty thieves and pickpockets. For such a violent attack to take place at a relatively peaceful time felt almost perverse, and it certainly indicated that this was not the work of a few thieves looking for coins. This was far more sinister. Frigga refrained from sharing her thoughts from Loki, knowing it would only agitate him further.

“I never should have let her go alone.”

“Loki, you must not blame yourself.”

“She's my apprentice, is she not? It was my errand she was running, was it not?” Loki stopped as his voice rose and nearly cracked. He took a breath and closed his eyes. “I will find out who did this. They will pay for what they've done,” he murmured darkly before striding off.

 

Hours later, Loki concealed himself and moved silently into the healing room, finding Sigyn laying on a cot near the back wall. She'd been changed into a healing tunic, her eyes closed, her broken ankle bound and elevated, wounds dressed, and a cushion tucked under her arm to protect her bruised ribs. Whatever herbal concoction they'd given her to keep her asleep worked well, as she hadn't stirred once in all the times he'd projected himself into the healing room to see her. He hadn't been able to focus his thoughts on anything else.

Guilt wracked his gut as he knelt beside her, resting his fingers over hers with one hand while stroking her hair with the other. Of course a thief or ruffian would consider her an easy target. Of course she'd be easily caught off-guard in an otherwise safe area. Perhaps one had even spotted her leaving the palace and knew she'd likely have more valuables on her than most city dwellers.

By the Norns, he would catch them, whoever it was who'd harmed her.

He had no idea why seeing her hurt had provoked such rage in him, or the sense of failure that he couldn't prevent it. He wanted nothing more than to destroy the bastards while at the same time keep her in his arms until she healed.

She stirred under his touch, slowly opening her eyes.

“Sigyn,” Loki whispered, a grin slowly spreading across his face as she woke.

Sigyn winced, tears brimming in her eyes. “Loki?”

“Hello, my sweet. You had me worried.” He lightly cradled her back, careful not to touch her injured side as she sat up. He seated himself on the edge of the cot in the free space she cleared for him.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, taking a long, slow breath. “I was walking...I just got the moonstone, and was coming back. I went past a small alley...the next thing I knew there was a strong grip on my arm, twisting it behind my back, and a knife at my neck.” She paused here, calming herself before continuing. “I was dragged away from the crowds and pushed into a wall. This...man. He...he said I ought to go back to the country. That the palace is no place for a simple girl like me. He brought the knife right under my throat...then slashed my arm instead.” She indicated the wrapped bandage beneath her shoulder. “He spun me around and struck me in the side with his boot. That's when I summoned magic and pressed my hand into his face as long as I could.”

Loki nodded. “Good for you.”

She shook her head. “He threw me on the ground and crushed my ankle. Then he took the moonstone and the coins I had left before storming off. I tried to stop him from taking them but...he just struck me more.” She closed her eyes as the tears spilled at last. “It all happened to fast, I barely had time to react.”

“It's alright, you're safe now,” Loki soothed. “Can you tell me what he looked like?”

“Big. Strong. Bulging muscles. Shaved head. A large scar down his right eye. Gray eyes. Silver and black armor. That's all I can recall.” She leaned her head against Loki's shoulder. “I...I'm so sorry I lost the moonstone, my prince. I tried to keep it safe...” her voice trailed off as it was replaced by gentle weeping.

“Shhh. I'm not worried about the moonstone,” Loki whispered, caressing her back with long, even strokes. He could feel her shaking under his arms.

“...I was so scared...” she sighed into his collarbone.

For a long while neither spoke. Sigyn's tears subsided after a few minutes as Loki held her. He thought back to how cross he'd been while he awaited her return earlier that day, his selfish frustration at having his day disrupted when he'd assumed she'd simply wandered off or spent too much time exploring the markets instead of returning for her lesson. All the while she was being brutally attacked, fearing for her life. A wave of fresh guilt swept over him, both for assuming her absence was a slight against him and for allowing such an awful turn of events to transpire when she trusted him so completely.

He'd nearly lost her, he thought as he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

“I swear to you, Sigyn, what happened today will not happen again. I will not allow it.” He ran his thumb across her cheekbone, coaxing her into looking back up at him. Her cobalt blue eyes were still wet, the flecks of amethyst now a dark purple. Streaks of tears ran down her cheeks, and Loki thought, not for the first time, that he would gladly kiss each and every freckle on her face if she'd allow him.

“We will find the brute, sweet one. In the meantime, I must insist upon two guards accompanying you whenever you leave the palace grounds once you've healed.” He'd expected her to argue, to insist that she would be fine, really. But instead she merely nodded.

“Not Theoric, though.”

“Not Theoric.”

It seemed the herbal concoction overtook her once more, or perhaps she'd finally succumbed to exhaustion. Either way, her eyelids grew heavy as she struggled to keep them open. He slowly eased her back onto the cot, keeping her comfortable and in roughly the same position as he'd found her. He held her hand for a few moments before finally letting go, a deep sense of peace unfolding somewhere within him knowing that when he returned, she'd still be there, safe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Sigyn is singing is "One Hundred Wishes" by Loreena McKennitt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigyn discovers the truth about who attacked her...but it's far from the only revelation she uncovers.

Sif and Hogun patrolled the streets of the city market, their eyes focused on narrow alleyways in particular, though over the last few hours nothing had aroused their suspicions. The queen had ordered extra guards at the markets and tasked the warriors with finding the ruffian who'd harmed Loki's apprentice, though their efforts over the past few weeks proved fruitless.

Now today's market drew to a close as merchants began to pack away their wares. Winter had arrived in earnest, and with such little sunlight the markets closed earlier and earlier, leaving them little time left to complete their mission. And Sif had no desire to endure an entire winter with a displeased Loki should the ruffian evade them.

“The extra guards have probably scared him off,” Hogun remarked now. “No thief would risk returning if the chance of being caught is too high.”

“But the ruffian also told her to return to the country,” Sif replied. “Why would a thief know or even care where their target is from so long as they can steal their belongings?”

“Maybe this was not about theft,” Hogun remarked.

“Then we've been wasting our time.”

They'd passed the outskirts of the markets, ready to return to the palace, once again having made no progress. It was then, at the very end of a long, narrow alley, that the sounds of a quarrel caught their attention.

They inched closer to see a young woman, dressed in noble finery, furiously arguing with a tall, muscular man whose head was mostly covered by shawl. She held a velvet coin purse between them, yet seemed to be refusing to hand it over.

“That's Lady Fulla,” Sif whispered to Hogun. They could not get close enough to hear their words without being seen, but it seemed Lady Fulla was not pleased with an arrangement she'd made with the man before her.

Now it was the man's turn to argue, though the noble woman seemed unimpressed by his hulking frame. Finally, he pulled off his shawl, revealing a shaved head, and scar over his eye.

And a blistering burn mark covering a sizable portion of his face.

Now Lady Fulla threw the coin purse in front of the man, grunting with frustration as she stormed off.

“Seems we did not waste our time after all,” Sif remarked as she and Hogun drew their weapons as the ruffian snatched the fallen coin purse. “Let's move.”

*

“Your majesty, it seems the ruffian was none other than Egil, leader of a den of thieves who have eluded the Einherjar for years,” Fandral announced before the grand hall, where the Allfather, the queen, and the princes had assembled along with the Warriors Three and Sif. Standing behind the warriors, chained and surrounded by guards, stood Egil, his burned face barely healed, glaring at the throne.

Sigyn sat off to the side, nearby Sif and behind the queen, her foot propped up against a golden support. She tugged at her hair ribbon as she watched the scene unfold before her, seemingly removed from it all even though she was the at the center of the crime they were discussing. They'd focused on her long enough for Eir to list the injuries she'd endured, and she'd been on the sideline since then. She was glad for it, hoping to stay hidden from the eyes of her attacker.

“And he confessed to attacking her?” the Allfather asked now.

“Eventually,” Fandral went on. “All bluster at first but it took little more than Thor and the threat of Mjollnir for his resolve to collapse and tell us everything.”

“As cowards always do,” Thor remarked, though Frigga silenced him with a firm shake of her head.

“Go on,” the Allfather turned his attention back to Fandral.

“It seems Lady Fulla paid him a handsome sum to target the girl. Although the intent was simply to scare her into leaving the palace and returning to her village. I suspect he would not have agreed to do so had he known she was a sorcerer. Seems he did not expect much of a fight.”

“And have you proof to support his claims?”

“Indeed,” Sif spoke. “Hogun and I witnessed the two arguing in an alleyway ourselves. He also had Lady Fulla's coin purse on hand when we caught him.”

The Allfather turned to Egil. “Do you deny these charges?”

“No, your majesty,” grunted Egil.

Sigyn's breath left her body as though it had been knocked out of her in a single blow. The revelation that she'd been targeted and harmed deliberately was even harder to accept than her initial assumption that she'd just been incredibly unlucky that day at the market. She'd been no stranger to Lady Fulla's underhanded, snide comments, but the sheer malice that the woman must have harbored for her shocked Sigyn to the core.

“Guards, send for Lady Fulla,” commanded the Allfather.

Sigyn's throat tightened as she struggled to keep breathing. Discovering Lady Fulla had orchestrated her assault was hard enough to bear. Now she'd be face to face with her. She wasn't sure she could handle it.

But Lady Fulla did not arrive in the throne room. Instead, Herryk appeared, bowing low before the Allfather, already in the midst of an apologetic speech.

“Allfather, I am truly aghast at the actions of one of my own,” he pleaded. “In all my loyal years at your side not once have I given you reason to distrust my family line until this day. Lady Fulla's actions were her own and she damaged property of the royal family without my knowledge or my sanctions.”

“I am not royal property...” Sigyn huffed, though neither the Allfather nor Herryk seemed to hear.

“And where is Lady Fulla to speak for herself?” asked the Allfather.

“She has been sent away to a cloister on Nornheim, banned from the palace, no longer able to harm our good name – er, harm that which our great royal family holds dear. I beseech thee, my king, as a long loyal advisor, and dare I say, friend, to please not allow the actions of one duplicitous girl harm our mutually beneficial-”

“That will be all, Herryk. You are free to go.”

Herryk scrambled to his feet, bowing once more before swiftly exiting the throne room.

“That settles the matter of Lady Fulla. Now, there is the matter of Egil,” the Allfather continued. “Have you anything to say in your defense, ruffian?”

“No your majesty,” Egil replied. Sigyn could barely recognize Egil's voice, so harsh and aggressive when he'd hurt her, now nearly soft and repentant.

“A typical punishment for this type of assault would involve 200 lashes and 3 centuries in the dungeons,” said Fandral.

“This was no typical assault,” Loki retorted. “This was a planned attack on an unarmed maiden who, as it happens, was working in service of the throne at the time this ruffian laid his hands on her. Harm done to a person of her station is comparable to harm done to one's sovereign ruler and a grave offense to Asgard.”

“My son is correct,” the Allfather announced. “Egil, you are hereby sentenced to 500 lashes, after which you will serve 1000 years in the dungeons where you cannot harm the interests of your sovereign rulers.”

 A tap of Gungnir sealed Egil's sentence. The guards pulled the thief away from the throne, leading him back to the dungeons. So justice had been served.

Not once had Sigyn been asked to speak on her own behalf.

As the court dispersed, the guard who had brought her to the throne room moved to lift her up. “Back to your chamber, girl?”

“One moment,” Sigyn replied, straining to see Loki. He was preoccupied, speaking with his brother and father, the latter already having moved on to some other business. Yet the one question still burning in her mind had not been addressed.

The queen took notice of Sigyn's attempts to reach Loki, and strode down the golden steps to meet her. “What troubles you, dear girl? Justice has been served. Your attackers cannot harm you further.”

“Yes, my queen,” Sigyn murmured. This was the first time the queen had ever spoken to her directly, and Sigyn was not quite prepared to address her. “But I do not understand. Why did she do it?”

The queen looked at her as though the answer ought to have been self-evident. “Why do you think?”

“I do not know, my queen. I confess the few times I had occasion to speak with Lady Fulla she did not seem fond of me. Yet I never suspected she harbored such malice.”

“Nor did I,” the queen admitted. “But such malice rarely comes from nowhere. Lady Fulla was nothing if not ambitious. If I had to guess I'd say she wanted you gone because she'd hoped to acquire the one thing you had that she did not.”

Sigyn nearly snorted. “But I have nothing Lady Fulla would want!”

The queen seemed to know something Sigyn did not. “Surely you've been with us long enough to know Lady Fulla's family wished to see one of their own with a claim to the throne. Suppose you were in her position. What would be the most likely way for you to secure a claim for your family?”

“Marriage, I suppose.”

“Precisely. And who would you need to marry?”

“A prince.”

The queen nodded. Yet Sigyn still felt there was a piece of the puzzle she'd been missing. “So Lady Fulla wanted to marry one of your sons. What's that got to do with me?”

By now the queen seemed truly shocked that Sigyn hadn't put the pieces together. “Let me tell you something about my sons, dear Sigyn. Thor has never wanted for admirers, yet he remains blinded to all feelings save his own. Not out of malice, mind, but rather he is so accustomed to having what he desires that he has no need to consider others' perspectives. Should a lady vie for his affections, his love for himself and lust for the battlefield will always win over her.

“Loki, on the other hand, is far more sensitive than he cares to let on,” Frigga continued. “He's never found his place here at court, and hides behind his cold exterior to mask that pain. I'd long hoped he'd find someone to share his affections, but until recently it seemed unlikely. But it seems at last Loki has found that person. Unfortunately for Lady Fulla, it was not her. And so long as that person remains at the palace, Lady Fulla could not marry her prince.”

Sigyn blinked, unsure what she'd just heard. “Lady Fulla thinks Loki...has feelings for _me_? Romantic ones?”

“Lady Fulla is far from the only person to draw that conclusion.”

“My queen, that is absurd. Loki is merely helping me with my magic, nothing more,” Sigyn protested. Yet her heart had picked up its pace at the suggestion. Could Loki think of her that way? Surely he thought well of her, but she was no noble and lacked the elegant charms and wealth of most of the court. She was too different to draw his affections. To have the love of a prince was something a country maiden like her dreamed about during silly flights of fancy, far too ridiculous to seriously entertain.

“Be that as it may,” the queen said, turning back to the throne. “At least you've found your answer.”

 

Weeks later, Sigyn leaned back against her pillow in her chamber, laying back as she watched the snow fall from the window. Tonight was the Solstice, though long hours spent recovering had left her oblivious to the goings-on of the palace until she'd heard one of the healers mention it. They were all down in the grand hall now, feasting and celebrating. It mattered little, for she was still in too much pain to appear, and did not wish for the court to see her being carried from room to room.

She'd been released from the healing room a few days following the attack, but was now mostly confined to her own room. Each day a healer came by to check her injuries and administer remedies to relieve her pain. Once the healer had finished, a stack of books would somehow appear by the door to keep Sigyn entertained. Sometimes she even received grimoires with particular passages marked so that she could practice. She knew precisely who the tomes came from, though she hadn't seen him since she'd been released from the healing room.

She tightened her blanket around her shoulders, idly stroking Dagny's plush horn. She wondered, watching the night sky, what Idunn and Papa were doing on this night. In Bravellir the Solstice feast when on sometimes well into the next day, with every cottage glowing with candlelight well into the evening. She'd tried scrying to see what was going on at the village, but had no luck summoning the visions from her bowl.

It was funny, Sigyn mused as she watched the snow swirling from her window. Back in Bravellir she was told she didn't belong through teasing and taunts, her interest in magic and lack of desire to marry so out of step with the expected norms. When she met Loki, she'd sensed she'd finally found someone who understood her, who would make her feel accepted. Yet in light of Lady Fulla's scheme to make her leave, she could no longer ignore the sense of alienation that grew within her the longer she stayed inside the golden walls. Now when she caught sight of the servants and nobles alike, she wondered who among them might share similar sentiments as Lady Fulla. Who else felt she had no place here.

A soft knock on the door pulled her away from her thoughts.

“Sigyn? Are you decent?” the prince's voice asked from behind the door.

Sigyn glanced down at her pale purple sleeping tunic and decided it was decent enough. “Indeed, my prince,” she called back. “You may enter.”

The door creaked open as Loki stepped inside. Sigyn straightened up as much as she was able in the small bed, tucking the plush unicorn out of view beneath her pillow.

“Aren't you supposed to be at the feast?” Sigyn asked as Loki approached her bed. She shifted over to make a space for him as he sat on the edge by her legs, facing her.

“I am, as far as the court knows,” Loki grinned. “Though it is a a bit dull.” He looked down at her injured ankle, his jaw clenching slightly.

“It's getting better,” Sigyn remarked. “The healers expect I shall be walking again by springtime.”

“It never should have happened,” Loki's fingers grazed over her knee. “I apologize for my absence over the last few weeks. I'd hoped allowing you time to heal undisturbed would hasten your progress.”

“You need not stay away, my prince,” Sigyn replied. “Though I fear I am not good company as of late.”

“And why is that, my dear?”

“This wasn't how I'd planned to spend the Solstice, I suppose.” Sigyn replied. “Away from home, alone in this tiny chamber, with a broken ankle.”

“But you _are_ happy here, yes?” Loki asked, his brow raised in his rare pleading expression. “With me?”

She looked into his eyes, and saw a vulnerability in them that she'd never seen before. For the first time, the queen's assertion that Lady Fulla's jealousy was not unfounded did not strike her as absurd.

“Yes, of course,” she whispered, aware of just how close they were, with his thigh against her leg. In their time together, she'd grown fond of him as a partner is magic. Yet since the trial little thoughts began slipping into her head, little what-if scenarios almost always involving him. Suppose they were to kiss? What if those times he'd touched her, he'd held on longer?

“Good,” Loki replied. His hand reached forward, as if to touch her face, then stopped. Sigyn wished for him to continue. Instead his fingers moved to her hair, sweeping it back from her shoulder.

He was so handsome, in a way so unlike the village men from Bravellir. There was an elegance to his movements, even in combat. And an ethereal quality to his facial features that belied his physical prowess.

 _No wonder Lady Fulla was jealous,_ Sigyn thought. _If she thinks so handsome a prince as he desires me._

Now Loki turned his attention to the scrying bowl on her table. “Ah yes, your bowl. Have you had any luck with it?”

“I'm afraid not, my prince. I'd hoped to take at look at Bravellir this night but I cannot conjure more than a passing shimmer.”

Loki stood and brought the bowl over. It was still half-full of water from her earlier attempt. “Then let's try again.” He placed the bowl on her lap in between them, kneeling before her. “Take my hand.”

She slipped her hand into his, feeling their magic beginning to thrum together.

“Put your other hand over the bowl.”

Her other hand hovered over the bowl.

“Now close your eyes.”

She closed her eyes.

She gasped as Loki's magic surged into her body, melding with her magic. His power came to her as a cool, mysterious energy, but one she inherently trusted. A force that harmonized with her own warmth and familiarity.

“Concentrate.”

In her mind she focused on Bravellir- the hills, the orchard, the snow, the children playing along the riverbanks, the village square, their cottage. Papa. Idunn. Runa. Her old bed. The fireplace. The kitchen window that always stuck when opened. The goat from three cottages over that often wandered into their garden despite Papa's efforts to keep it out. The sprawling green fields. The linens hanging from the clothesline.

“Now look.”

She opened her eyes and looked into the bowl. Reflected in the water's surface sat Papa, Idunn, and Bragi, gathered around the fireplace, wine goblets in hand. Bragi with his arm over Idunn. Papa in his favorite chair and cane resting against his side. She could not hear what they said, but they smiled and laughed as they spoke.

“I can see them,” Sigyn whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. “They're happy.”

“You miss them,” Loki murmured, tracing his thumb over her the top of her hand.

“I do.”

The vulnerable look returned to Loki's eyes. “Do you...do you wish you were there?”

Sigyn waved the image in the bowl away, and Papa, Idunn, and Bragi dissolved as the water returned to normal. Her and Loki's magic faded from the air, leaving her breathless. She could still feel him flowing through her veins.

“I would rather they were here," she answered, her hand grasping his. "So that they would know that I too am happy.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Springtime in Asgard, when a young prince's fancy turns to thoughts of a certain apprentice.

By springtime she'd fully healed, as Eir had predicted. Loki resumed sending her on errands outside the palace, though still with a guard to escort her. Sigyn grumbled about this, but Loki reasoned that, as an apprentice of the royal family, her status proclaimed her an all too tempting target for thieves and scoundrels, to say nothing of Lady Fulla's schemes. Besides, Loki sensed her restlessness as the weather warmed. She'd spent all winter healing within the confines of her chamber, with little company aside from the healers and what little time Loki could spare for her.

Still, he too was eager to escape their gilded fortress, grand though it was. And so on the first truly warm, clear morning, he brought her to the stables, preparing his horse before they rode out to the rocky shores away from the palace grounds.

Sigyn wrapped her arms around Loki's waist as he rode, clinging to him from behind on the saddle. He nearly lost his sense of the direction at the sensation of her body pressed against his, acutely aware of every place where her soft curves met his sharp angles. He'd become acquainted with those curves when he'd visited her on the night of Solstice, catching just a glimpse of what her sleeping tunic barely concealed. Even now, with her choice of lighter fabrics since the weather warmed, he remained beguiled by what lurked beneath her garments.

He'd grown fond of her, he realized now. Perhaps he even fancied her as Fandral had once claimed. Lately, when alone in his bedchamber, he'd entertained thoughts of what they could do if she were with him.

Yet he was so unlike the stalwart, burly men of her village, surely she could not have similar feelings about him. She was fond of him, he knew, but he doubted her thoughts turned to him when she retired to her bedchamber.

By now they'd reached Loki's planned destination, an isolated fjord along the coast. Loki dismounted first. As he turned to help Sigyn off the horse, he found that she already stood on the ground beside him.

“Where to, my prince?” she asked, looking up at him with a lightness in her eyes he hadn't seen in some time. Her hair was tangled and windblown. Somehow the mess made her even more alluring, tousled as though she'd just stepped out of bed, perhaps after a long night of someone running their hands through it, among other things.

“My prince?” Sigyn asked again, with a quizzical tilt of her head.

Loki blinked, pulling his eyes away from her and forcing himself back to the present. “To the coast,” he replied as he lead her to the edge of the fjord. “We're going to try something I've not been able to accomplish on my own.”

As they stood before the coast, Sigyn shivered as the wind swept up from the sea. Waves crashed against the cliff, sending mist into the air. He knew she was thinking of the Sea of Gandvik and the monstrous serpents that lingered in the depths. Though no such creatures lurked in these waters, his memories drifted back to that night as well.

He summoned his magic and twisted his hand over the sea with a quick, subtle gesture. Beneath the surface a large, green serpentine mass coalesced. It swirled beneath under the water, barely visible.

Casting illusions underwater still proved a challenge for Loki. Working against an extra element required a degree of concentration and power that he could not muster as easily on his own.

As if sensing Loki's intentions, Sigyn reached over and placed her hand on top of his. Golden light shimmered from her palm, sending a gentle heat rushing down his forearm. His breath hitched from the pleasure as the gold light merged with his green. He could feel her power strengthening his- a steady, constant support amid his chaos.

The lines of the illusion grew sharper as Loki focused their power. Now the creature had glinting green scales, piercing yellow eyes, and fins that broke through the surface as it moved.

“Now that's an improvement,” Loki remarked. “But as I recall our sea serpent rose up from the waves.” He grinned at her. “Shall we?”

He rose their joined hands. Seconds later, the serpent rose from the water, so life-like they'd even managed to ripple the water's surface as it ascended. Before long a near-exact replica of the sea serpent they'd encountered over the Sea of Gandvik loomed over them, looking for all the world as though it intended to drag them into the waters with it.

Sigyn gasped in awe beside him. Loki, too, was impressed by the result of their combined efforts.

“Care to take over?” he asked, looking over at Sigyn.

“What shall I do?”

“Anything you like.”

Sigyn closed her eyes. Loki felt her pulling her magic from his center, taking his along with it. The balance shifting from him over to her, like grains of sand in a tilting hourglass. With a wave of her hand, the sea serpent dissolved from view. Green and gold magic pulsated in her palms, awaiting release.

Loki watched her, waiting to see what she'd do. The magic vanished with a twist of her hand, though nothing happened.

Hooves galloped behind him, drawing closer as a loud neigh sounded by his ear. He whirled around just in time to see a full-sized unicorn rearing before him. It looked almost like a life-size version of the plush unicorn Sigyn kept hiding when Loki came to visit her chamber.

The illusion galloped past him, bowing before Sigyn who beamed at her creation.

Not to be out done, Loki subtly twisted his hand towards the grass. Dozens of small green snakes slithered through the grass towards Sigyn. She glanced down, biting back a yelp as the unicorn dissolved from view. She glanced up at Loki as the snakes surrounded her, a small smirk on her lips.

A second later, a large falcon swooped down from the sky, just grazing over Loki's head as it soared back up over the water. The falcon turned, aiming at Loki once more.

“I'd take cover if I were you,” Sigyn teased as she sent the illusion soaring towards Loki.

“Indeed you should, my dear,” Loki replied, peering over Sigyn's shoulder.

She turned to see a giant wolf staring down at her, leaning forward as if to sniff the top of her head. Instinctively she jumped away, catching her foot on the grass. Loki caught her by the waist before they both went tumbling to the ground. The falcon and wolf both dissolved, quickly forgotten.

Loki fell onto his back, holding Sigyn on top of him. She laughed, steadying herself as she looked down at him. Her hair fell over her shoulders, draping over Loki like a curtain. He secured his arm over her back, the other draped across her shoulders.

“Not bad,” he murmured. Her powers were growing despite the months she'd spent recovering from her injuries.

“Not bad?” Sigyn replied in mock indignation. “I'd say that was rather good. Great, even.”

“Mmm,” Loki breathed, savoring the closeness of her. There was a sense of contentment he found with her in his grasp, a rare thing he did not wish to let go of. “You've certainly honed your skills.”

“What can I say? I've had good training,” Sigyn smiled at him, running a hand over her head, her long curls drifting across Loki's chest. She stretched for a moment, then slid off of Loki, laying beside him in the grass, her hand entwined with his.

Loki stretched out on the grass, allowing his magic to replenish after so much exertion. His forearm tingled with heat long after her magic left his. He flexed his fingertips, watching small flecks of gold light escape from them as he moved.

“How long does it take?” Sigyn asked after a few moments. “To become a master sorcerer?”

“Quite a while,” Loki replied. “Though it's more of an ongoing study. One can always learn new elements, strengthen others.”

“When did you become a master sorcerer?”

Loki considered her question. In truth he'd never had a moment where he'd felt he'd achieved true mastery of the craft. He spent centuries learning, perfecting, experimenting, and he supposed at some point he'd reached a level most would call mastery, yet he'd never felt it. For no matter how long he'd studied, no matter how his powers grew, he knew there would always be more to learn, sorcerers more powerful than he, relics he'd yet to discover. For Loki, it was the pursuit of the unknown that drove his practice, not mastery of the known.

“Sometime over the centuries, I suppose,” Loki answered at length. “Though it would take several lifetimes over to master all the known magic in the cosmos.”

Sigyn looked up at the sky. “Are there other, more powerful beings out there? Stronger than even the Allfather?”

“Undoubtedly,” Loki murmured. He felt Sigyn curl in closer to his side. “There are tales of beings older than the universe itself. Living planets. Creatures whose sole purpose is to observe events across the stars. In truth here on Asgard we've collected a mere handful of the knowledge in the cosmos.”

“Do you think one day we could explore the universe a bit? Beyond the nine realms, I mean?” Sigyn looked up at him, enthralled by his tale.

“The Bifrost limits us to the nine, I'm afraid,” Loki replied. “Though I may have discovered a few alternate paths here and there. Perhaps I will show you one day.”

Sigyn smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. “I would like that.”

Loki chuckled. “And to think you'd planned to stay on in your village, using your powers for broken bones, ensuring good harvests.”

“I'd hoped to use my powers to help those who could not help themselves,” Sigyn replied, raising her head. “I still intend to do that. Perhaps on a larger scale.”

“You shall, dear Sigyn,” Loki tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “You shall.”

They were quiet for a few moments. Loki rested his head against his forearm. His fingers idly traced over Sigyn's hand, and even now he could feel her magic, how his own power seemed to pull towards hers. How it _wanted_ to merge with her.

“My prince?” Sigyn spoke at long last. “May I ask you something?”

“Mmm?” Loki opened his eyes once more, looking down to see her gazing up at him as though he were the most handsome creature she'd ever seen. It was a look he'd rarely seen directed towards him alone.

“If I hadn't come to the palace, would you have courted Lady Fulla? In earnest, I mean?”

His heart darkened at the mention of Lady Fulla. Her ambitions had been plain, and he knew her family could be ruthless in pursuit of their goals, yet even he had been shocked that she'd arranged for Sigyn to be harmed. Guilt weighed on his conscience, as he supposed it was the sight of Sigyn's yellow ribbon on his wrist that ignited Lady Fulla's jealousy. It was bad enough to know he'd failed to protect his Sigyn. To think he'd caused her harm, however indirectly, caused a fresh wave of shame in his gut. He had to do better by her.

“Loki?” Sigyn asked. “Have I upset you?”

“Not at all, my sweet,” Loki replied, running his thumb across her jawline. “To answer your question, I suppose Lady Fulla's naked ambition would have amused me for a time. But I am not one who appreciates being used as a means to an end.”

“I almost feel sorry for her,” Sigyn mused, resting her head against Loki's collarbone.

“For Norn's sake, _why_?”

“Well, it's her family, isn't it?” Sigyn replied. “Imagine being told your whole life your only value lies in who you marry and only a prince will do. Herryk probably never told her even once that anything else about her mattered. Of course she was driven to secure you or Thor, using whatever means necessary. No matter who got hurt.” Sigyn looked up at the sky. The sun had nearly reached its zenith, casting long shadows along the nearby trees. “And then to simply cast her out like that. As though she were just another trinket that lost all value the moment she displeased him.”

“Herryk is nothing if not cutthroat."

“But to value a throne over one's own family? Perhaps I am no noble, but I find such a perspective unthinkable.”

“You are no noble, my dear Sigyn,” Loki replied, a pleasant drowsiness overtaking him. “For that, I am glad.”

Just before he drifted off, he heard her shifting beside him. “And you are so unlike the men of my village, my prince,” she whispered. “And I am glad.”

*

Vanir dignitaries were about arrive in Asgard for a diplomatic visit. The palace buzzed with activity in the days prior to the arrival, with servants darting in all directions, resolving possible crises that didn't exist yet, prepping for a week of nonstop feasts, scrubbing the already sparkling throne room until not a speck of dust was in sight. It was a chaotic scene so out of step with the typical order and peace Sigyn was used to.

Even Loki was so preoccupied with upcoming guests that he often had her working alone during their sessions. She remained diligent, but in truth missed his presence. They'd spent so little time together, and when they did it was merely a few moments of going over incantations before he'd need to rush off again. She felt like a nuisance, bothering him with her needs when such an important even loomed ever closer.

It wasn't until the night before the Vanir arrival that Loki told her she was the entire court was expected at the first night's feast, and, as an apprentice to the prince, that included her.

“But, I'm not a noble,” Sigyn protested. She'd never attend a palace feast before, much less one held for special dignitaries.

“You're not,” Loki agreed. “But in this case all those who serve the royal family are to attend, including servants, handmaids, generals, tutors, the Crimson Hawks...”

“And apprentices,” Sigyn finished, sighing. “So what must I do there?”

“Mostly show up and dine,” Loki said. “And since you'll be with the working class, just follow the lead of those around you. You won't be expected in formal wear, but appear presentable.”

The following night, the entire court gathered in the great hall, with the Vanir guests arrayed before the Allfather and the royal family as they were treated to a formal welcome. Loki stood beside the queen, though Sigyn could barely see him from her spot in the crowd. She wore the plain blue linen dress with gold trim that was perfect for special occasions in the countryside but here she was aware of how dull it looked compared to the finery of the noble ladies.

Meanwhile, the nobles made speech after speech, their long monologues interspersed with polite applause or laughter. Sigyn's eyes drifted over to Loki, over at the main table. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she'd caught him looking over to her too, but it was so crowded he could have been looking at anyone. Next to him, Thor was making little effort to hide his growing impatience with the long string of speeches, but warning looks from Frigga kept him quiet.

At long last, the speeches stopped, and the music began. The noble ladies instantly migrated towards the main table, hoping for a dance with the princes or perhaps a dashing young Vanir visitor. Fandral managed to woo several partners at once, but Sigyn's heart tightened at the gaggle of women before Loki. He had no shortage of charms, and was certainly a better dance partner than Thor. She saw him lead the first lady out into the dance area, then looked away.

She stood from her table near the back, surveying the grandiosity around her. It was beautiful, to be sure, but as she watched the court dance, feast, and laugh, a sense of isolation overtook her. She didn't belong here, and as much as she thought of Loki as _her_ prince, in truth he wasn't hers at all.

Sigyn slipped out of the great hall, making her way into the garden. She stopped finally at a long back wall. Her power thrummed inside her, and she released dozens of golden orbs into the night sky. They floated above her, gently illuminating the garden. She could still hear the music from inside in the distance, although the crickets chirping were far louder. She watched as the orbs glowed, gently increasing and decreasing their intensity and changing their positions as the night wore on.

“There you are,” a voice said behind her. Sigyn turned to find Loki standing before her. “Your fondness for wandering knows no limits.”

“It was just a little warm in there,” Sigyn replied, though it was also quite warm under the heat of her orbs. “Did I miss something important?”

“Only if you were hoping for more roasted pheasant. I'm afraid Volstagg has ravaged the last few servings.” Loki proffered his hand. “It will wrap up soon. Come back in?”

Sigyn took his hand, but hesitated. “My prince, I'm afraid I'm not feeling quite up to socializing at the moment.”

“Shall I go?”

“No, no,” Sigyn replied, her hand still in his. “It's just that I don't feel like such a fine feast is a place for me. I can't quite explain it.”

Loki pulled her in closer, placing his free arm around her waist. “No need, my darling. We can stay out here.” A new tune, a slow ballad, echoed from the great hall out into the garden, and Loki gently lead her into a dance.

“Is this a new thing, calling me darling?” Sigyn asked.

“Perhaps.”

“It's not bad.”

“So may I do it again, my darling?”

They swayed under the orbs as the music continued. Loki tightened his grip, and pulled her in until there was no space between them. She put her arms over his shoulders as he ran his other hand up and down her back.

“The general protocol at these feasts,” Loki whispered, “Is that a prince oblige any lady who wishes to dance. Of course, it's also expected that a prince will also offer his hand to certain other parties, such as daughters of visiting dignitaries, ambassadors, ladies close to the queen, and so on. However, the final dance of the evening is reserved for the prince's choice of partner.”

The music had faded to a close. There was faint applause coming from the great hall. Loki continued to hold onto her though.

“So when will the last dance begin?” Sigyn asked.

“That was it.” Loki cupped her chin with his hand, tilting her head upward.

After a brief _Are we really going to do this?_ pause, Sigyn's lips parted beneath Loki's. He kissed her as though he needed her to understand every bit of his desire for her. And she felt it, what she meant to him. So too did he feel her desires, how he was truly _her_ prince.

Loki broke the kiss, breathless. He rested his forehead against hers. Sigyn regained control of the orbs, vanishing them until they were alone in the dark. “I must say my goodbyes to our guests,” he said. “Meet me in my chambers.”

*

Loki made his way back to the great hall, hoping to say his farewells quickly and get back to Sigyn. His mind already filled with possibilities to explore with her in the bedchamber, starting with her freckles.

He reached the entrance to find his mother waiting for him beside the now-cleared tables. “I take it you found her?”

Loki paused. He hadn't mentioned he'd gone looking for Sigyn when he'd departed.

“Oh, it was the light display that gave it away,” she explained. “Don't worry, I doubt it drew much attention in here. Although I do wonder why you were so anxious to locate a commoner with whom you have a very specific arrangement.”

Loki shrugged. “I like her after all.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may recognize a few of these scenes from a different fic I'd started a while back. The truth is, I'd written myself into a corner with the old one and wasn't happy with how it was turning out, so I decided to start over, even though I did like a number of the scenes. I kept what worked and revised it to fit into this series instead. Enjoy!


End file.
